Fallen Angel: The Burning
by TheRevolutionIsInMyHands
Summary: One night,a fire ravaged a home and killed a girl's mother.Her sister gets taken away.She has to move to another state.How will she adapt?Especially if someone's about to permanently alter her life.One question remains:Is it for the better?Or the worse?
1. Chapter 1: Fire, Smoke, and Death

**One**

Smell was my first sense of awareness. Smoke filled my nose with a sweet scent, like a burning campfire, smoldering, charring wood, heat surrounded me. Wait-_smoldering , burning_. . . ? With a sickening jolt, I sat bolt upright in my bed, heat pressing in from all sides. Thick, black smoke pressed in all around, blackening the ceiling, too. Nervous cries came from the room across the hall.

"Mommy? Mommy, help me!" Gloria? Sweat's gluing my hair down to the nape of my neck as I got on the hot wooden floor and began to crawl, belly pressing against the inferno. I dare not breath, infected air can't pass through my lungs. I need to save her, save my Gloria. The cries are growing softer, less urgent, more like giving up than waiting for her older sister. Now I saw her-sitting up in her bed, starting to lie down, getting ever so closer to death. . .

"Glory!" I coughed, "Don't lay down! Get on your belly and _follow me_."

"Weah? Where are you? Weah?!" Desperation made her tumble towards me, though I bet she couldn't _see_ me.

"I'm right here, Glory, right here." My shaking fingers grasped hers and were dragging her coughing form to me. She instantly curled up and started using my hair as a filter. With her clinging to my chest, I stood up and ran to the top of the stairs-the carpet was burning up to us.

"Weah! Help me!" Her voice ringing in my ears made me crouch to see a firefighter with a hose right by our couch. He's our only hope. . .

"Help! Hel-" I was still in range of the smoke's choking mass, and so was Glory. I laid down beside her.

"Glory? You have to promise me something."

"Anything, Weah." I remembered how she couldn't even say my name yet. She didn't deserve to die. Not at all. Not yet. . .

"I want you to scream _really_ loud, all right? I'm going to get Mommy and Daddy." She was whimpering when I let go of her, but it rose into a shrill scream when I entered another burning room.

"Mom?! Dad?! Please, answer me!" I felt tears roll down my face, probably leaving clean streaks of peach skin, soon to be charred. Their bed. . . Oh, God, their _bed_. It's on _fire_. . . _Completely._ There isn't any way to save them, they're already _dead_. What'll I tell Glory?

"Oh. . ." _Rivers _were flowing off my chin, now. The tear-streams are thick, too. Like I need anything _else_ to blur my vision!

"Weah! Something's got me! Hurry! Monster! Monster!" Glory saw the firefighter, taking her away from me. . . _How dare he_. I gave up internally searching for Mom and Dad's. . . _bodies_, and started running for the stairs again. I saw him look at me-ashy face, smoldering clothes, streaks, messy hair; I must've looked like a nightmare-exactly what I hoped this was. But I know not to put too much stock in that theory.

"How. Dare. You. Touch. _My. Sister_ !" I screamed loudly, and took her. The fire was nothing but a very charred staircase, now. But my parents' room. . . it was still _burning_.

"Miss? Miss, please come with me." He led me down at the very edges of the stairs, where the flames haven't gotten too. Fire was pouring through the doorframe now-I couldn't believe I had _just been there_. The hose was directed towards their room-they wouldn't be happy, they _hated_ to get anything in their room wet. It would warp the floors.

"But-but-"

"Please, get outside." Without another glance, he shoved me out the door-I was stumbling down the stairs with a four-year-old taking up my arms. Clean air tasted _nice_, though-I could breathe again, and the uncomfortable heat was gone. I felt the relief of Glory, too-she exhaled and buried her head in the hollow under my throat, just like with Mom.

"Weah. . . Where's Mommy and Daddy? Don't they know the house is burning?" I have something caught in my throat, I can barely talk.

". . . Yeah, Glory. They know. . ."

"Den, den why aren't they wit us?" Worry flooded from her-she always had such emotional eyes.

"Because, darling. Remember what Mommy said about God? And Heaven? And when that when it was their time to go. . ." I can't finish this sentence. . .

"They're. . . gone?" Her high-pitch little voice rose an octave at the very end, and I can see tears in her eyes. I can only nod, because I don't know what to say to her. She started to cry into my shoulder, and I joined her, grieving for our lost parents. Footsteps echoed before us, and when I looked up-with scorn in my eyes-the fireman that had shoved us out looked down, his hat pressed over his heart.

"Miss? Can I ask your name?" Tears choked me. "Miss?"

"I-it's Leah."

"Okay, Leah. . . Were the two bodies in there your-" I nodded, and waved him off to silence him-Glory didn't need to hear.

"How _old_ are you, Leah? And do you have any relatives close by?"

"I'm thirteen, she's four, and we have an Aunt down on Wesley. The coffee shop, uh, cafe`. . . Cafe` Grace!" Despite my revulsion for the man, I'm pleased that I got the right cafe`.

"Oh, my wife goes there all the time! Ha-ha, sometimes she drags my son Chester along with her." His smiling face did nothing for my attitude.

"Oh, we're not hurt at _all_, thank you." I shouted at him. Sarcasm filled my voice. No one should ever want to know what horrible things that I wanted so badly to shout at him.

"Are you?"

"No."

"Then, let's go find that Aunt of yours."

Cafe` Grace was empty, the chairs standing on the tables, their cushions sliding, all the lights but one were off. I knocked on the glass door with the curly queue insigne and rang the doorbell three times fast, in a pattern-the sign for a relative. Aunt Millie ran down the stairs, flicked on the light switch, and opened the door.

"Oh, my. Why are you children here at this hour? And who is this?" Aunt Millie pointed a manicured nail at the fireman.

"Aunt Millie-" I held the sleeping Gloria like you would burp a newborn, "Aunt Millie, we just had a fire. And . . . We're the only survivors." So many emotions crossed her face just then-shock, worry, helplessness, courage.

"I'm sorry. I can only take one of them. . . We don't have enough room. I've filled up every room except mine to the doorjamb with supplies for the store! Oh, but Glory's small enough to fit into my room, so. . . Leah? Do you think that you can stay with one of your other aunts? Just until everything's back on track-I promise it won't be long." Aunt Millie clasped her hands together. For a second I thought that she was_ begging_. I instantly felt bad for the poor woman. There she was, sacrificing what little space she has for my little Gloria, and I was _hesitating _to answer.

"Take her, Aunt Millie. I can't take care of her like you can-it wouldn't be fair to her to keep her away from all of her friends. So please. Take her." My heartfelt farewell was short, but I packed a lot of meaning into those few words.

She was going to call my Aunt Casey, who lived in Ogunquit, Maine. Aunt Millie said that she had a nice house on a side street near the tourist destinations, because she owned a souvenir shop across from a busy hotel-the Spar-Hawk? I couldn't be sure. I have never been to Maine in my _life_. What would it be like? Since it was so close to the actual new school year in High School-damn my freshman status-could I relate to anyone at all? I refocused my mind on the sleeping Gloria in front of me on the baby mattresses stacked tall. Her eyes were closed, no snoring, and her face reminded me of an angels'. Her hand still gripped two of my fingers. As I struggled to reclaim them without waking her, Aunt Millie called up to me.

"Is she asleep yet? Aunt Casey's here." I'm not ready to go. No, not yet. Just a few more minutes with her? Please? She unconsciously tugged at my fingers as to say _don't go, don't go_. Words can't describe how much I didn't want to leave her. Her gentle eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled at me, then spoke in her soprano voice, just like that of a little girl's.

"Leah?" Oh my God. Tears welled up in my eyes for the first time, realizing that she had just said my name _right_. I sniffled and looked up. "Leah, where're you going?"

"Away."

" 'Way? Don't' go 'way, Leah! I want you with _me_." My breath raced, and I nodded solemnly.

"I'm sorry, Glory. I have to. But you'll see me again, I promise." My voice shook at the last word. _Promise_. Just like I "promised" that we would stay together forever. Just like I "promised" that everything would turn out alright. What _lies_ promises were. _Lies_.

"But-but Leah!" She screamed a little at my name, begging me not to go, as I wrenched my fingers out of hers. If only she knew how much that had hurt _me_, too. "No! You _promised _me you would stay! You _promised_ !"

"I'm sorry, Glory. I have to go, and there's nothing I can do about it." It was better to hurt her feelings now, and have her hate me, than to harbor false ones for me.

"Anything?"

"Nothing." And I walked out of the room, revulsion for myself blurring my senses.

Aunt Casey was waiting for me down in the cafe`, a teacup confined in her folded hands. She looked up at me with big, brown eyes and curly chestnut hair framing her face.

"Leah? Are you okay?" She rose and pat me on the back, and led me to her truck that was parked on the curb. My eyes traced the fine patterns of cracks in the sidewalk. It was around midnight, and the cab of her truck was still warm from the sun, though there was no sun to be found. It had already sunk below the foothills of the mountains. I think I would still see the foothills. . . Maybe even the mountains. I would just be living closer to the beach, right? In a bordering state. The engine roared to life under Aunt Casey's touch, and we were off. I was dozing in minutes, though.

The first thing I saw when I woke up was a beautiful, sunny bridge over a busy harbor-slash-what-I'm-guessing-is-a-market. The bridge's cables were being painted as I looked on in wonder at the magnificence of the waves. They had whitecaps from the wakes of the enormous boats passing through. Then, as it passed, we were on a highway.

"Well, morning! It's about eight. We can stop for something if you like?" Aunt Casey's chipper attitude made me almost forget last night.

"No, I can't possibly-" A loud gurgle interrupted my sentence. It took a few seconds of us in silence and Aunt Casey smiling to get that the angry snarl was _me_. "Well, if you want. . ."

"Okay, Leah. Where to? There's a fast food place up here."

"Sure, okay." The fast food place was a Burger King, and normally I don't eat that much fast food, but I was _hungry_. So, it automatically tasted better.

Then, too soon, we were off the rest stop and back onto the road. Then, a sign caught my eye and made my heart jump. Ogunquit: Exit One. We turned at the off ramp and came into a bustling tourist city. Pedestrians claimed the sidewalks, crosswalks, and sides of streets. Stores had displays outside, cops did the usual run-around, and the smell of the ocean hit me like a slap across the face.

"Wow. . ." There were no other words! The place was so friendly, so happy, that I _couldn't_ help but smile. I was gravitated to this place. The only thing-person-that could make this day better is if Glory were here. I would get to see her someday, though. And we would be happy again, in the most wonderful place in the world.

"Takes your breath away, doesn't it? The air just gets you hooked. Pretty soon, you'll go back to that small little town and think it smells horrible! That's what I thought, and I used to live there!" Aunt Casey giggled and tossed a lock of her curly hair over her shoulder. "At least, I hope you will." No doubts about that. I would be real happy here; I could tell. We turned onto the main street, with all the shops and hotels and the trolley-tracks. Then, we went down a side road across from the Spar Hawk, down that road a few miles, and we were in front of a large brick building. It looked old, established.

"This is the school, so you'd better remember it well. You'll be going here. Now, onto my house!" Her enthusiasm was catching-I could only laugh along with her. The truck made its way around a bend further down the road, and to the left.

"Here we are! Home sweet home! Not far from the school, not too close, good area, shopping district nearby, you are going to _love_ this place! Let me show you to your room! Hurry, hurry!" _Hurry! Hurry! Smoke, choking, burning, Glory, where is she?_ Flashbacks from the fire turned on in my mind, freezing me in my place. "Hello? Hello-o? Leah?" My body unfroze and searched for Aunt Casey. She was there, waving her manicured hand in front of my face. "Geez, Leah. Maybe you need this place more than I thought!" She grabbed my wrist, "Well, come on!"

"Okay. Maybe you're right, Aunt Casey. I _do_ need this place." Images where still whirling through my mind at a scarily fast pace, but I ignored them.

The house was adorable, in the new terms. Modern furniture decorated the rooms, art hung on the painted walls, the kitchen smelled of cookies, which were on the table, and it was spotless. Aunt Casey led me up the stairs and into a large, carpeted hallway. She pointed out the guest room, her room, and the guest bedroom to the left. Then, she pointed to a linen closet, _my _bathroom, and _my _bedroom to the right.

"I hope it's alright, I did the best I could. We have to go shopping later. You need clothes and shampoo, and everything! Oh, I'm so excited! But before we go, you need to be introduced to Eleanor and Carmella Jones. They're our neighbors. You'll love Carmella!" I followed her out the door and across the street to a corner lot bordering Diane Avenue. She knocked on the door twice, and a nice, middle-aged woman with plump features welcomed us in. She had a nice voice.

"Casey! So nice to see you, dear. Is this Leah? Oh, Carmella! Someone's here to see you!" A girl with slightly wider features than my own looked down from the stairs, an I-pod in her ears. When she saw me, she shut it off and put it in her pocket.

"Hello? Who's this?" Then, something clicked in her mind. "This is Leah! Oh, it's so good to meet you! Come on, let's go upstairs." She was. . . friendly. We left Aunt Casey downstairs to catch up, and I was dragged again by Carmella into her room. It was a pink and yellow room, the walls I mean, and butterflies were _everywhere_. Not that there's anything wrong with butterflies, but still. . .

"Sit down, please! So tell me. How do you like it here so far?"

"I love it. Everyone's so nice!" So nice it almost makes me want to cry.

"That's good! Now, since you live across the street from me, you must be going to the Swift school right up the street! Nice! I can introduce you to everyone! We can be best friends, right?" My happier instincts that were normally like me kicked in.

"Well, duh! Thank you _so_ much for inviting me into your room! We should be besties!"

"Besties we are, then!"

"Carmella, Leah? Come down here for a second please!" Her short blonde hair waved in front of me, the darker bottom part-she dyed it-swung to her neck. I followed her, and peered over the stairs.

"You two good friends now? Come on, let's go shopping, girls! Time to go!" As we rushed down the stairs, a snort came from the living room.

"Shut it, Sean! That's my brother. Don't mind him, though." We ran into Aunt Casey's truck again and took off towards the mall. I noticed our street-me and Aunt Casey's-Watercress.

The mall was _huge_. Two floors, big glass ceilings, and birds that nobody has any clue how they got there. We went into several stores, picking out ten pairs of jeans-two pairs skinny, four just tight, two regular, and two long-, about eighteen shirts(keep in mind that it's a whole wardrobe)-four button-ups, ten tee shirts, and four camisoles-, six pairs of shoes-two flats, two running shoes, one flip flops, and one pair of Converse-, socks, underwear, all that, hats-two of them. Those were the _clothes_. The makeup they forced me to get was just eyeliner, because that's all I would even think about putting on. They got me two sweatshirts for when it's cold, too. Next: hygienic department. They got me body spray, _awfully expensive_ shampoo and conditioner, and deodorant. I was aching to go home and put all this away before school tomorrow, because I was tired to the extreme. I almost cried when Aunt Casey spoke.

"All right, time to go home!" The multitude of bags took serious effort of all three of us to get out and in to the truck bed. How am I ever going to pay her back?

As we got home I grabbed all of my things and went upstairs. This would be the first time I saw my room. It was gorgeous! The floor was hardwood, the walls were brown, one wall was glass-it had a deck, too, and there was a bed on the side of the glass, which was facing out into the forest. The bags on my arms suddenly weighed two tons, and I let them drop to the floor with a loud thud. The bed was already covered with sheets and pillows and everything! It was more than I had ever asked for. . . More than I _deserved._ The hazardous task of putting away all of the things they bought for me began. Clothes in the closet, bathroom stuff in the bathroom. I organized all of my clothes, too. Shirts on one side, pants on the other, shoes down below, others in the chest at the end of the closet. Now, the bathroom. Shampoo and conditioner on the little ledge, body wash with it, makeup in the closet, fresh towel hanging up. Just like I did it at home. I decided to take a shower and just go to bed. It'd been a long day, and I wanted to see my Glory. But I couldn't. The joy of irony. . .

The hot water felt nice, sure, but it didn't get deep enough to wash away my fears for Gloria in that little room with Aunt Millie. _Stupid!_ I yelled mentally at myself. _She'll be fine! She's with Aunt Millie, near all of her friends, and her school. . . You're going to give yourself a brain hemorrhage if you don't stop thinking about it! So stop it!_ My mind was right-I probably _would_ give myself a brain hemorrhage if I thought about it too long. . . I got out of the shower and wrapped myself in a white towel, brushing my fingers through my hair, which smelled _amazing_ thanks to the expensive shampoo.

"Leah? Carmella's coming over for dinner! Is that alright?" Aunt Casey yelled up the stairs, the smell of spaghetti floating up towards me. And was that. . .

"Will there be garlic bread involved?" Of course. That sounded like something I would say on a normal day.

"Freshly baked! Now get your little self down here!"

"I'm in a towel! I'm pretty sure _no one _wants to see that!" I laughed, running into my room. A set of pajama pants that we got today-that I barely agreed to have because of the massive bill-rested on my bed with a white camisole. The pants were all yellow-y and orange-y and all around awesome! My favorite colors! The doorbell rang just as I stepped out of the shower, my hair dry, my stomach wanting garlic bread.

"Carmella-a-a!" I sang, hopping down the stairs and giving her a hug.

"Leah! Hey, meanie! If you told me this was a PJ party, I would've came anyways! I'll be right back. Hold on." I didn't have time to respond, and she was out the door in a second. I turned to Aunt Casey.

"Thanks for everything, Aunt Casey. I really can't thank you enough, so-"

"Oh, that's nothing, Leah! But you're going to school tomorrow, right?" Crap. I forgot about school supplies!

"Aunt Casey! We forgot-"

"Ha-ha-ha. Darling, Carmella has her last year's bag she can give you! And supplies, too! And a spare gym uniform, too. That girl's just organized!"

"Yeah," I giggled, "Organized. So _that's_ what you call it." Aunt Casey smiled and set the garlic bread down.

"You know? You two can munch on the cookies I made earlier. After dinner, of course. She can sleep over, too! Oh, Leah, I love your talent to recognize nice girls. . ." I zoned out into the piece of garlic bread I was staring at. Carmella burst through the door.

"Can I sleep over, Leah?"

"We were just talking about that! Come on, I'll help you set up and pack!" I volunteered, already running across the street barefoot. I was happily ushered in to Carmella's house by her Mom-I was repulsed by myself at the envious little twinge that ran through me as Carmella said "Hi, Mom." I threw in a pair of jeans and a shirt that she was going to wear tomorrow into the red duffle bag. The shirt was purple with a little heart over the pocket. She grabbed the bag, her backpack, and her shoes, and we were suddenly in my house again, enjoying a nice, home-cooked dinner of spaghetti and garlic bread.

"This is good, Mrs. Bose. Leah, this is your Aunt, right?" I nodded and stuffed my face with the last of the spaghetti. "So, what's your last name? Mine's Clover." Carmella Clover. Nice name.

"Svelte." A simple last name, meaning something graceful. Pretty sure it was French, but maybe not. . . Probably not.

"Oh, Leah! That's a pretty last name! Lucky! I just get a plant!" She stood up and put her dish in the sink. I followed her.

"No way! Not just a plant! It's a symbol for good luck! Now, come on. Let's watch a movie. What do you want to watch? Romance? Horror? Comedy?"

"Horror! Do you have Alien V.S. Predator? I love that movie!"

"Oh, no way! I do too! Hey, do we even have that movie?" I rummaged through the DVD cabinet, coming up empty. "I don't think so. . . Oh, wait! Here it is!" I popped in the movie and sat down with Carmella, who was sitting quietly. I wriggled in my seat like a newborn puppy-I was impatient for the movie to start. I only remember up to the part when the go into the ice-thing, and we see the alien. Nothing more. Why is that?

I woke up on the couch, Carmella's leg under mine. I must've fallen asleep, because the movie was on its title screen, and I had the clicker loosely formed in my hand, which was hanging off the couch. The clock read six-thirty, and I struggled to get up without waking Carmella. I have to take a shower before school to wake me up, or I'll be groggy and lethargic all day. Sun was just beginning to rise over the foothills-I could still see them-as I fell off the tiny couch.

"Oof! God. . ." I scrambled to my feet. I hope Carmella hadn't heard. . .

"Leah? What time is it?"

"Around six-thirty. Do you take a shower before school?" I stretched out my arms and my legs, then hurried back to the stairs.

"No. . . I'll change in the. . . bathro-o-o-o-o-m." She almost stifled a huge yawn. Her hair was in disarray, spiky and all over the place, as I ran upstairs into my bathroom.

Hot water just felt naturally good in the morning, especially when you're freezing your butt off downstairs. I washed my hair again, just because I didn't know what was on the couch down there, and combed through my hair. The dark, elegantly curly strands went down to my waist. It took a while to brush, and I had to cut off an inch because if how singed it was at the tips. By the time I was done my hair and eyeliner and all dry and dressed, it was six fifty. Carmella was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

"Here's your backpack. Let's go now. I walk." It really isn't that much of a distance, so I would've walked anyways. We just passed trees and rocks and dirt on the way there.

The established building looked more menacing when you saw it up close. It was just one of those things that just _was_, and there's nothing to do about it. I decided that it looked impressive-but it still intimidated me-and stuck to Carmella like glue.

"Scary your first time, isn't it?" Her statement didn't even _begin_ to cover what I really felt inside. Kind of like a putrid mix of nostalgia, fear, and the urge to throw up what little breakfast you had-and I didn't have any. So that, of course, worried me deeply. All I could do was stutter and flinch away from any loud or sudden noise.

"Y-yeah-I mean-No-How do you-How do you _stand_ it? Isn't this your first day, too?" As I finally got the words that bugged me so much out of my mouth, she started to _laugh_. "What? Am I not allowed to be _nervous_?"

"_Nervous_ seems to be an understatement for you. You look petrified!" I _was _petrified. My feet were locked in front of the bike rack, refusing to budge.

"Then why aren't _you_ nervous?"

"Because, silly Leah, I know the people in my year. You don't. Simple as that." True. . . She _did_ know her class. And it was true that I didn't. The horrifying mix in my stomach rose up to my throat. I swallowed it back down. "Something wrong?"

"Just. . . nervous."

"Man, I would _hate_ to have your nerves!" She giggled and waved her hand for me to follow. The glass doors seemed so much scarier when you had to go _through_ them.

As soon as I walked in, the office was to my right, lockers lining the walls down the enormous hallway in front of the lunchroom which was basically at the tips of my shoes. The linoleum floor seemed so much more interesting once you got through the doors.

"Quit putting your head down, Leah. Look. We're going to the office now, to get your schedule. You won't need a map-the school isn't _that _big once you know it. And, judging from your apparent lack of interest in this conversation, I guess you're ready to go now, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Exactly," She sighed, "Now come _on_." Carmella pointed me to the office-I could tell because it said "office" in big letters above the door-and left me alone. She said that she would be waiting outside the door. The secretary was old-pointed nose, glasses, scrunched face.

"May I help you?" Her voice sounded like a really old Grandmother's, too. Like she was withered in her age. Note to self: Do _not_ ask this lady's age.

"Yeah. I'm Leah Svelte. I'm starting this year." I was still amazed that Aunt Casey could enroll me so fast.

"Oh, yes. The _fire-child_." The way she said that ticked me off beyond reproach. I could've said some _bad_ things to that old lady, some of which might give her a heart condition after I said them. "Here," She handed me a blue slip of paper. "Take this down the hall to miss Connolly. She'll give you your team, homeroom, and schedule. Now go." I left, almost sprinting out the door. Rude son of a-

"Leah! Isn't she _awful_? She must've _really_ bothered you! I mean, look at your face! You look so upset! What did she do?" She grabbed my shoulders and I looked to my left.

"She called me _the fire child_." I didn't need any reminders of my parents dying in that fire! I don't need any reminders of how I couldn't save them!

"The fire child? I didn't think that would bother someone like you. You just seem so-" I whispered what had happened before I moved here in her ear. "Oh. . . That miserable-"

"Calm down! It's over, and she'll die soon, anyways! She so old, if I told her to act her age, she'd be dead by now." Carmella laughed and followed me to the guidance office, which I really had no clue on how to get there, I just followed the office's walls.

The guidance office was a lot nicer than the regular office. Softer chairs, nicer secretaries, and a counselor was already outside the door to meet me-she didn't seem to notice Carmella standing next to me. And if she did, she didn't show any signs of acknowledging her. My counselor was a younger woman-younger than the others, I mean-with hair that reminded me of Aunt Casey, but darker in color.

"Hello, Leah. I'm Jane. Now, you're just starting out here?" Her voice was soft, quiet, something you would expect from a shrink. I saw her diploma of psychiatrics hanging on the wall behind her in the small room that screamed "cubicle". She leaned forward a little and pressed her hand on my forehead. "Do you feel sick? Your face looks kind of flushed. . ."

"No, no. Just nervous, is all." I laughed it off and collected my schedule. I looked at it on the way out into the hallway. "Leah J. Svelte. Team: Novas. Year: One. Unified Arts: Physical Education and Art." Then, it read my schedule to me. It went Algebra, Physical Science, P. E., English, Lunch, Art, History. Nice.

"No .Way! You have my _exact _schedule! That's so awesome!" I couldn't help but join her.

"Really? That _is_ awesome! We will _so_ be best buddies!"

". . . You're not kidding, are you?"

". . . . _Maybe_. . . ." I giggled.

"You're mean! Ugh, come on. Time for-aw! Algebra!" I felt the same way. Ugh, Algebra.

I didn't pay attention. End of story. I hated Algebra, and that was it. Plus, I had already learned this stuff last year! So I was bored until God knows when, trying to think of what the teacher was saying-but it didn't work out too well. . .

Science was cool, too! Physical Science was just another term for Earth Science. I thought it was really cool, anyways. Magma flow through the volcanoes and all that. Awesome.

I really didn't notice anything more until lunch, where I was the most interesting news anyone had ever laid eyes on. What was the new girl like? Why did she start two days late? Who is this new girl? What's her favorite type of music? Who's she hanging out with? Does she like it here? Questions poured from their mouths faster than I could count them, let alone answer them. I was babbling in a confused manner until Carmella got her lunch and sat down next to me, yelling at them to back off. What I would've said if they would've shut up for a second. I wasn't even hungry, either. I think Maine's messing with my appetite. And my behavior. And my attention span. Okay, it's messing with everything! I wanted to be _myself_ here. Not some shy, new girl who doesn't know left from right yet! I am _sick_ of this.

"Quiet! Quiet, quiet, quiet! Leave me _alone_. I was _trying_ to eat!" My outburst startled them back a few feet, giving me some much-needed space, and letting another girl through. She was pretty, blond, and was a more curvy version of Carmella. She leaned down and whispered in my ear.

"Once you're done with the loser, visit my locker. Number twenty-twenty four." And she walked away. I would've hit her if everyone hadn't been right there. Ugh, stupid people. . . .

My inattentiveness seemed to be foreshadowing a nasty habit. I really didn't notice anything until the last class of the day-History.

Carmella made a plan to have every class I had with her-which was every one-with me by her side. But when it came down to History, the teacher flat-out refused her request.

"No, miss Jones! She'll be fine in her seat in the third row! Now go back to _your_ seat. Now." Mr. Daniels _was_ pretty fair, you could only take so much Carmella, and I was _just _across the room from her. But she pouted and crossed her arms through the class anyways. For good measure? Then, I remembered how much I _hated_ History. . . Normally. This lesson was cool. We were learning about the Revolutionary War, something I didn't even know that Maine was a part of, and talked about John Stark, a war hero from New Hampshire. He made the state motto, survived the war, and died where I was just living-yes I lived in Manchester, New Hampshire. I found it interesting, and the teacher captivated my flighty attention with the mention of my former home. But, too soon, the bell rang a different tune for the end of the day, a loud hum. Carmella caught up to me once I got outside.

"Leah! Isn't he _awful_? Not letting us sit together! I mean, who does he think he is. . ." My attention-span was back to flighty in what seemed like zero to eighty. In my mind's absence, I remembered that blond girl's offer. . . "_Once you're done with the loser, visit my locker. Number twenty-twenty four." _Puh-lease! How could somebody be so mean to other people like that? On second thought, I don't want to know. My mind's too innocent.

"Um, Carmella? Would you let me walk home by myself today? Not that you're getting to be too much, it's just. . . . a lot to take in. But I'll see you tomorrow. Okay?"

"Promise?"

"Yup. Promise." She held out her hand. What the. . .

"Pinky swear?"

"Oh, just go! I need to do something first. . . . _Leave_." I turned her around by the shoulders and gave her a little push in the direction of the door. Then, I switched my focus, now unfaltering because school was over, to the long row of lockers behind me. Eighty-one-twenty-four. . . Well, I _was_ on the top floor. Maybe the twenties would be on the bottom floor, near the moldy-smelling locker rooms?

The stairs on the way down into the locker rooms were filthy. I mean _filthy_. So disgusting that I really wished to God that I could fly and not even have to touch the ground, disgusting. All I can say is _ew_. Ew to the power of infinity. Dust coated almost everything down here, especially the locker doors. But one locker, a thin strip of metal, just like all the others all around it, was spotless. As well as the floor around it. There, the girl waited. The blond one that intimidated the hell out of me. The blond one that had made fun of one of my _friends_. My _bestie_.

"So, you're smarter than I thought you were. You decided to-" Her smart-ass voice was getting on my nerves. She thought that she knew me so well. . . So well that she knew what I was thinking, even! Yeah, right!

"I didn't decide _anything_ yet, Blondie. Now what did you want me here for?"

"Here-" She handed me a bottle of Coke-the cola, not the drug.

"Thank you. . . . ?"

"This is just one of the things you can get with _me_ and _my_ crew, new girl. Think wisely about that loser you're towing around with you. We're your real friends. People who can get you anything you want. Plus, you'll be in the _in_ crowd. What more could a girl want? So, what do you say? Loser? Or _me_?"

"I say. . . " I made a snap decision. "I say you look thirsty!" I uncapped the soda quickly and threw the contents of the bottle on her white blouse. Her hands shook and she screamed.

"You. . . . ! You're going to _pay_ for that-for this! Get back here! Get back!" I was already walking away, bag slung over my shoulder, Coke bottle thrown at the ground. She walked up to me and grabbed my shoulder.

"Hey, let off!"

"Not until you pay for this expensive blouse you ignorant-"

"Leah! I was worried about you, you know. What's going on here?" Carmella showed her face on the top stairs, looking down and smiling at the blond girl-who's name I still didn't know. She walked down and freed my shoulder. "You know, Jeanie, she could sue you for harassment. You did grab her shoulder, you know. Why couldn't she?" Jeanie stood there, a little dumbfounded by Carmella's sudden appearance, her mouth gaping. We took the chance we had and _left_.

"Oh God, Leah! Did _you_ do that to her favorite shirt? Ha! I bet the stain's already set! So much for that one. Good job! But. . . . I bet she's going to have it out for you now. Whatever you do, _don't _show weakness in any form." Carmella instructed me on avoiding Jeanie's mean-streak while we were walking, already approaching our street. "Okay? Got it?"

"Don't show weakness of any form. Clothes, hair, crushes, anything." I repeated, offering the advice happily back to Carmella, who resembled a drill instructor. She smiled, though, showing some of her kitten-like personality. Charm? Check. Smile? Check. Ditzy? Double check. When I was done reciting, we were at my house, and Carmella hurried across the street and into her house. I heard her mother yell at her brother when the door opened. Aunt Casey was, as usual, leaning over the hot stove, cooking.

"Hi, Aunt Casey. School was good. I'm going upstairs to do my homework, though." Ugh! I hated homework more than most, because I didn't like to put the effort forth to finish it. But I want to get good grades too, right? So I sat myself down on the couch and scribbled on a piece of paper. First, Algebra, because I hated it most. Then, Science, because I liked a little more, and so on and so on.

I was done by eight 'o clock, despite my first day there was a lot to do, and I went upstairs. I never noticed the nice deck I had outside, or the storm door that led to it. Funny. . . Was that there last night? I could've used some fresh air.

I never knew how beautiful the woods looked from up high. The tips of trees were swaying in a sudden gust of wind, leaves swirling around on the ground like little tornados, clouds floating past in groups, providing shade from the late Summer heat. The foothills of the mountains were amazing. They were purple and blue far away on the horizon, but up close you knew how _green_ they were. Something I liked about New England that would make me want to stay here forever: the open skies and natural wonder. How could they ever want to get _rid_ of this? Wow. Did I turn into a tree-hugger in under two seconds? No vegetarianism for me! I loved meat too much!

"Leah? Supper's ready!" I went back downstairs and ate, then I followed my usual routine: go upstairs, take a shower, get dressed for bed. But I didn't _go_ to bed. Not yet. I went back out to my deck, and noticed a strange little overhang right beside the door, which would get me onto the roof. Now how could I do this? I put my foot on the railing, my hands grabbing the overhang, and hauled myself up onto the roof. The foothills looked so much _better_ up higher. More colorful than when you saw them through the trees, bigger and closer than the deck, wonderful. I marveled at an owl, pure white, as if it was made of snow or a cloud, which spread its wide wings, gray tipping the feathers, and swooped down below the branches, flying within a foot of my nose. Its shining ice blue eyes were looking straight into mine. Then, I saw something unexpected wander out from the undergrowth in my backyard. A wolf with fur as white as the owl's, with the same gray tipping its paws, gracefully pawed its way through the tall grass around the yard's edge. When it looked up at the owl, my heart nearly stopped. The ferocity you would expect in a wolf wasn't there in this one-it looked at the owl like a brother with sparkling silver eyes. The owl was huge as it perched next to me, almost. It ruffled its feathers and turned to look at me. Then, it tipped its head. A howl of ferocious volume cut through the air, and made me clutch my ears. The owl hopped closer and spread its beak in an ear-shattering shriek. I toppled backwards onto my deck-off the roof. The wolf growled as I landed, and the owl came down with me. It lunged and tried to get my neck, but I raised my arm. A chunk of it was gone, down the owl's throat. The wolf lunged, too, and leaped onto my porch. It grabbed the owl by its glorious wing and threw it off the deck. I was free to get back inside.

When I woke up, the chunk was still missing from my arm. I panicked-not because it hurt or anything, but because I don't want Aunt Casey to think that I've been hurting myself for whatever reason that she might think up on her own. I looked outside. It was raining, the perfect excuse to wear a sweatshirt today. When I was all dressed for school and I had everything done, I just ran out of the house with my hood up, not waiting for Carmella to catch up. When I got to the school, I stopped and looked back. She had run to catch up to me, in heels too.

"Leah. . ." She said between huffs of breath, "What are you. . . doing here so. . . . early? I thought. . . you were scared of. . . Jeanie." Jeanie? Oh, right! The girl-probably a guy-who's shirt I ruined yesterday. Oh well.

"No. What made you think of that?"

". . . Nothing. . . " I left her to collect breath and went inside.

Everything was the same. Homework, lessons, Carmella. Except History. The two seats that were usually empty in back and beside me were filled. With the two most beautiful men I had ever seen, to be exact. They were about the same height, the same skin tone, almost the same eyes. One was silver, and one was blue. I instantly thought of the wolf and he owl last night, but shook my head at the thought that _they_ could be and owl and a wolf. The one to the back of me had hair slightly shorter than the one to my left, and was slightly curlier. His hair was lighter, too. He was the blue-eyed one. He wore a tee shirt and jeans that said something in Italian. The one to my left captivated most of my attention. His eyes were silver and shining, he had a leather jacket on, with a shirt under it and jeans. Almost identical to the one behind me. His hair was longer, darker, and less curly than the other one, but it still had a wavy texture to it. He turned his head to me and I flinched back. The sleeve on my left arm rolled up, and the missing piece of my arm showed. As I hurried to cover it up again, he shot a harsh glance at the guy behind me, and continued to look at me. I looked down at the notes I scribbled uninterestedly and felt heat warm my cheeks. I saw him smile in the corner of my eye and look back to the teacher. I looked up through my lashes.

"Class? We have two new students today." Mr. Daniels clapped his hands for the class to pay attention to him. Everyone looked up. "Raphael? Dante? Would you two please stand up?" They were taller than I expected them to be. Around six feet? "Would you two please introduce yourselves?"

"I'm Raphael Cercatore, and this is my brother Dante. We are new to this country." His voice had a heavy Italian accent.

"Tell us something interesting about yourselves."

"I-" Dante interrupted, "was born in Naples, while my brother was born in Rome."

"Very nice. Now, those will be your permanent seats for the year. I don't switch."

"That won't be a problem for us." Dante smiled and sat down in synch with his brother. Raphael snuck tiny little looks at me through the corner of his eye all class. I couldn't help but feel a little flattered at the gesture. The bell rang soon after, and I picked up my things and almost skipped to my locker. Carmella was waiting for me.

"Leah! Did you _see_ those two?! Did you see the taller one looking at you?! Leah, this is great! I saw Jeanie almost tearing her hair out looking at you two! She was _so_ jealous. Actually, both of them were looking at you. . . ." She muttered "lucky" under her breath and followed me out the door. She babbled on and on, I didn't listen, until I was home and she was across the street yelling her goodbyes. What was really in my mind was the tall one. _Raphael_. He was born in Rome? Cool. His brother was born somewhere else? Cool_er_. Did I have a huge crush on him now? Duh.

I woke, eager to see _him_ again, next to me in History, and dressed in a flash, leaving right when I had to. Better not to rush these things, right? But-of course-I was impatient all day. I was fidgeting and shaking and trembling and whatever else it can be called! Until History.

He swept graceful-but hard to detect-looks through the corner of his eye to look at me. I was gazing at him through my lashes and a heavy curtain of hair. I was still wearing the sweatshirt, because A: it still hadn't stopped raining, and B: that huge chunk the owl took out of my arm was just beginning to heal-it was closing up. The note were taken by the end of the class, but I was still sneaking looks at him, too, and being "pre-occupied" with something all the time. But once, I snuck a look at poor Carmella sitting next to Jeanie. We had to do a project. I looked at the teacher.

"You will be paired with the person sitting to your right. You have to make an original project, original as in _thought of by yourselves_, Andrew!" Andrew looked down and shuffled his feet under his desk, "I don't want to see any volcanoes. Got it? Now, if you're on the edge like Leah, here, you look to your left. That's all, good luck. Because this counts for twenty percent of your final grade." And he stopped talking. My heart rate hit the NOS, and it was hammering out of my chest. Heat rushed up to my cheeks as I looked over and saw Raphael's desk moved over right beside mine. He was right beside me, our arms touching. I made a stupid little _squeak _sound in my head.

"Well, partner? What do you think we should do? No volcanoes, though it'd be fun to watch something explode. . . ." Hi voice was smooth like silk, seductive like melted chocolate. His eyes had blue and purple tints, though it looked from far away as if they were black. He turned his head to get a piece of paper, and a lock brushed across my cheek-he was taller than me, too-and it matched his voice exactly. Only it was softer than silk. . . . He turned and wrote down one idea.

"No talking! If I hear one more word, you'll all get detention!" Why? Was it really _that loud_ in here? We can't talk? He smiled at my confusion and wrote on the piece of paper.

It was pretty loud in here before. You should've

seen the girl who got to be partners with Dante! It

was pretty funny. Anyways, back to our project.

How about a diorama? Or is that too first grade?

I shook my head, but then an idea popped into my head. I was about to shout it out loud, but a warning glance from the teacher silenced me. I settled for Raphael's idea and wrote on his piece of paper. He looked over my shoulder thoughtfully.

What about s play?! I mean, we could be on the

opposite sides, like a war because it's History, and

it would be cool, right????

He looked over my shoulder again and gently tugged at the paper. I let it go, and his hand scribbled furiously against the paper, but only one word was there.

PERFECT.

I smiled and looked over to him. He was smiling, too, and he gave me a little thumbs up for the "effort", I think. I smiled even wider. Then, he leaned in and whispered, "What play? Civil War?" I shook my head."Revolutionary? What battle?" I turned to face him and whispered back.

"Gettysburg Address. It's my favorite."

"Wasn't that the battle with the most deaths? You sure seem cynical right about now. . ."

"No, it's not that. It's just the most famous." I was interrupted by the bell, and he just got up and basically ran out of the room. He waved over his shoulder. I was sure my heart stopped, because I couldn't breathe. Then, I heard the blood pounding in my ears and I knew I was alive.

"Leah! You lucky-duck!" She grabbed my shoulders and shook them, "You got to be partners with the guy that everyone wants! I mean, _look_ at him!" She babbled again until we were home. When I entered the room, Aunt Casey was talking to someone at the table. He turned around and smiled.

"Long time, no see, huh?" Raphael asked, sarcastic. "I thought we could work on our project here-unless you would want to work beside Dante and the rest of my family. . . I should've asked first, shouldn't I have?"

"How. . . Did you get here so fast?" Wasn't there a _speed limit_ on this road anymore?

"I asked a friend. Now, the Gettysburg Address. . ."

"A friend? Who?" The only one who knew where I lived was-

"Carmella." We said together. He smiled and showed me the script so far. It only had the title. So, he was showing me that we had to work on it? I took it and then handed it back to him just as fast, spitting out lines and then what could happen. We worked on it together for four whole hours until the rough draft was done. Aunt Casey promised that she would research and look it over tonight, and when his back was turned, she winked at me. Good job, huh? He wasn't even mine. . . yet. Well, maybe not ever. But I would try.


	2. Chapter 2: New Beginnings

**TWO**

It had been one month since I decided to love Raphael Cercatore. All along, I knew that liking somebody was _against my rules_ of justice. Justice to me, I mean. Liking someone's hard to keep away from Carmella, and all the other friends I'd made during my one week liking period. Like Sam, Dianna, and Max. I tried not to look too awestruck around him-though Carmella noticed a few times and I just said the poor excuse "I'm tired".

Ever since the teacher paired me and Raphael together, which was pretty cool of him, our project was getting done quicker than hoped. It was due today.

I kept looking out my window every night, seeing the huge white owl and the wolf, always close to me. The owl preferred to soar above the trees and swoop down from time to time. The wolf wandered around my backyard, watching me watch the owl. Were they some kind of cult? A cult of animals? Was all of this driving me insane? I twiddled my thumbs at the wolf's eyes, silver and shining under the full moon. It leaned its head back and bayed loudly, running a shiver down my back.

"Leah? Leah, hello? Hey!" Max waved his hand in front of my eyes. My face was almost in my lunch, and I realized that I was leaning towards it.

"Huh? Wonder how that happened?" I murmured, and messed with my fork. I wasn't really hungry today. . .

"Like I was _saying_, Leah, do you want to go down to the tourist' spot with me? I need to help with my Dad's restaurant, and it involves loading and reloading inventory, and it's a lot of work for one person on his bike to do alone. . . You have a bike, though, right? The Raleigh?" A date? You could never be sure with Max, but I wanted to help, anyways.

"Yeah, I'll help. And I have a bike. Yes, it's the Raleigh." Three short sentences. That's all it took for a grateful smile to spread onto his face.

"Thank you thank you thank you, Leah!" Hr acted as if I _had_ said that I'd go out with him. . . Uh-oh.

"Too late to say no, now!" Sam grinned and made a kissy-face at me.

"I'm helping him and his dad with inventory!"

"You _believed_ that?" He cracked up. "I have to help _my_ dad with inventory, too! Down by the beach!" His laugh was running out, sounding strangled and forced through his teeth.

"Um," Diana-always polite and quiet-said, "Max's dad's shop _is_ down by the beach. I've been there. And don't worry. He asked me for help, too, and he really means it." Relief. Happiness. Hunger. Three emotions that made me want to bury my face in the tray in front of me. . . But mostly hunger.

I lingered on the after-effects of my art class; we were learning about caricatures, and it reminded me of a certain word-a last name, really. Cercatore.

Me and Raphael were the first people called up for a play, the second to get called up for anything. I said, with a certain flair, as he'd put it before, that we were acting out the Gettysburg Address. We yelled at each other-I being the American because I had the accent down better than he, the Italian who just moved her, did. He tried to master the British accent, and it. . . _almost_ worked. Better than mine, though. Sad, right? Anyways. I yelled at him for being too controlling, he yelled-with more of an effect-at me for disobeying the King's orders, and we both shot each other, stood up, and took a bow.

"A little shorter than I would've imagined for your love of being on a stage, Miss Svelte, but it fit the purpose nicely. Nice accent, Mr. Cercatore." The class burst into giggles. " A B-plus." What? That was A material!

"Thanks." Stupid mouth! Say what you're thinking, not what won't get you sent to the office! I scolded myself inwardly, almost smashing my hand against my forehead. Raphael and I returned to our desks-which were still put together so that our arms were still brushing, like everyone else's.

I flopped down on my bed as soon as I got home. Aunt Casey was still at work in her souvenir-place, probably busy-she had one of the best spots on the whole beach for a shop-with a bunch of customers. I frowned at the tiny pile of homework that just seemed to get bigger every day. Well, no use doing all this tonight. I'll get a bunch of it done when I get back, right? I'd have all night for that! I might even call Carmella over to help me if I got desperate. . . I would just say that I already did it and got a ride there. And they took off when my back was turned. . . Diana's mother-who hated me for no reason-would do that. And she didn't know Diana's number. . . Okay, plan set and check! Time to go!

Once I was down the street, as far as the top of the hill where the school's street was, I could see the busy intersection where cars flew by. You could see the Spar Hawk hotel. Close to where the shop was. Then, I remembered Max. Just then, he flew by on his bike.

"Leah! There you are. Go looking for my shop? You know, I don't think I ever told you where it is. . . Come on." He motioned for me to get on the back pegs of his bike.

"Oh. Max, I don't think-" I don't think I like you that much to be seen with you alone in public. I don't think that would be a good idea at all. In other words: _no_.

"Come on! You said you would help me restock! Please? Please. . . . ? For me, Leah? For your best buddy? Please?" The begging! The _horrible_ begging!

"Fine, fine! Geez, Max, I don't know how your sisters live with you and your evil begging." To tell the truth, he kind of looked like a kicked puppy, all sad. . . No! Don't feel sad for him, he's a jerk! He's playing the blame-game! The battle within my mind raged on, unaware of Max's confused expression as I got on his bike. The two sides: what's right, what's fun-because almost everything that's right isn't fun. . . Unless you're a _really_ good person. The only good I did was not saying the things I thought of out loud-but, hey! _That_ takes some work, too. The grin he came up with next was scarier than the kicked-puppy-look.

"Good." Was that all? He _has_ to be up to something. . . Sam's words echoed in my head, _you __**believed**__ that?! So, you'll help me and my father restock? By the beach?!_ Stupid Sam. . . Max just wasn't that evil inside to trick me like that. Or maybe he was one of those tricky super villains? One that acts nice to his victims, and then tricks them into doing something that he wants?

Oh. Diana was right. His dad _did_ have a shop, down by the beach-right across from it actually, next to Aunt Casey's booming store-and three huge trucks filled with bowls and all that restaurant stuff sat out in front, one half-empty, but two waiting, completely full.

"Believe me _now_? How were me and my dad-and maybe the nice lady next door-supposed to do that all by ourselves?!" He said, gesturing towards the biggest of the trucks, half-empty.

"That_ nice lady next door_ is my Aunt, Max. I could go get her to help."

"Really? Would you?! Hey, Dad!" He ran off to a man with a gut and a receding hairline, wearing a stained apron and carrying two armfuls of silverware. I left as quick as I'd gotten here.

As soon as I walked in, I realized that I had never once been in a souvenir shop. Well, that was different now, wasn't it? Aunt Casey heard the little bell on the door jingle, and she automatically looked at me with her hello-how-are-you face. It turned into the I-already-know-you face and she turned away, shoving a weird snow globe on a shelf behind the counter.

"Oh, Leah. What brings you here?"

"I wanted to ask you a favor. I'm helping Max-you know him. The guy next door's son. He wants us to help him restock his restaurant. Will you help? I already promised that I would. . . " Stupid Sam, giving me things to worry about. . .

"Sure, Leah. Go tell them that I'll be right out. Now where did I put those tee shirts. . . ?" She mumbled, shuffling around the counter and going through a door that I had no clue was ever there. Where did it come from? Another dimension? Were there aliens in there?! I hope so! I ran into the room, and bumped into Aunt Casey, who was carrying a huge box of shirts at the time.

"Aw, sorry, Aunt Casey!" Damn! So close to finding those aliens, too. . .

"No problem. What made you so excited like that? Think aliens are in here or something?" Uh. . . Would it be best to stay silent and look fascinated with my shoes for a while? "Kids!" She scoffed, throwing her arms up. "No, Leah! I shouldn't really blame _kids_ for thinking that there's an alien or two lurking 'round my shop. . ."

I just kind of _walked out_ after she started blaming kids, then me, then the world, then Hitler. Why did she think so much _like me_? It just wasn't fair! _I_ was going to blame Hitler! Max hopped up to me, accidently dropping about-what looked like-ten plates at my feet.

"Woops."

"Ma-a-a-ax!" His father called, a look of exasperation-tiredness?-on his face. His hair had swept into his face, making him look like cousin It.

"Sorry, Dad! Um, Leah! Could you take a few more dishes and put them on the counter inside like all the rest while I sweep this up? Oh, Dad's going to _kill_ me. No, kill me twice! Three-four times! God, what'll I say? What'll he _do_? Leah, c'mon! _Go_. The broom's near the truck over-" He pointed to the almost-empty second truck, which had a wooden broom resting at the ramp. "there." I didn't want to argue, so I grabbed a dustbin that I saw over there and ran back, giving him a sorry-for-all-this smile, and running to the truck. I grabbed a stack of dishes that were resting on the edge of the truck, when Aunt Casey got another and joined me for the walk in.

"He's not too bright, is he? Dropping a bunch of dishes like that!"

"I know," I countered, "No form whatsoever!" She laughed along with me.

Well, the dished were fine after Max's little "accident" with them, and his dad wouldn't let him touch any more after the second set he dropped. Now that the work was all done, I was home, and I was ready for bed. I laid down and closed my eyes, not even wincing as the wolf's lonely, mourning howl split the air. I was so tired. . .

_"Is she asleep yet? Aunt Casey's here." I'm not ready to go. No, not yet. Just a few more minutes with her? Please? She unconsciously tugged at my fingers as to say don't go, don't go. Words can't describe how much I didn't want to leave her. Her gentle eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled at me, then spoke in her soprano voice, just like that of a little girl's._

_"Leah?" Oh my God. Tears welled up in my eyes for the first time, realizing that she had just said my name right. I sniffled and looked up. "Leah, where're you going?"_

_"Away."_

_" 'Way? Don't' go 'way, Leah! I want you with me." My breath raced, and I nodded solemnly._

_"I'm sorry, Glory. I have to. But you'll see me again, I promise." My voice shook at the last word. Promise. Just like I "promised" that we would stay together forever. Just like I "promised" that everything would turn out alright. What lies promises were. Lies._

_"But-but Leah!" She screamed a little at my name, begging me not to go, as I wrenched my fingers out of hers. If only she knew how much that had hurt me, too. "No! You promised me you would stay! You promised !"_

_"I'm sorry, Glory. I have to go, and there's nothing I can do about it." It was better to hurt her feelings now, and have her hate me, than to harbor false ones for me._

_"Anything?"_

_"Nothing." And I walked out of the room, revulsion for myself blurring my senses._

"No. . . No. . . No!" I screamed, throwing myself awake in the pitch darkness of my room, quivering on the floor, in a shaken heap next to my blankets, which had been kicked off the bed. My pulse raced in my throat, my wrists, and my chest. What the hell just _happened_? Was that. . . Was that my Glory? She said my name right. . . _Oh_. I sniffled and held back tears. Why? Why did I have such a sad dream? Or was it a nightmare? I just _had_ to leave when she said my name right! I couldn't hold back the tears anymore, and I let them fall, silently, off my cheek until it was raw. Would I ever see her again? Could I? I have to ask Aunt Casey. . . Speaking of which, she burst through my door and saw me, sitting on the floor with my hands over my eyes(let me tell you, my eyes hurt like hell).

"What's wrong, Leah?" She crouched down to my level and pat my back. "Bad dream?"

"Yeah." I breathed, "Just a bad dream." She went back across the hall and left me alone. I dissolved into tears again, thinking about Glory, Mom, and Dad. "Dad. . ." I mumbled to myself, thinking about how much _I_ looked like _him_. Brown, curly hair, blue eyes, somewhere around the average to tall height range. My personality was like his, too. Always wanting to goof off, funny(okay, maybe I'm flattering myself a bit), and I make connections on emotional levels quickly. Then, my Mom. In truth, she was the only parent in the house that night. The night of the fire, I mean. My Dad had already died. I still called that room _their room_ because I didn't want to believe that he was gone. I fooled Glory into thinking that way, too. I remembered the night my dad died clearly. Well, hell! If I was going to become upset anyways, I might as well make it good(plus, if I closed my eyes again I knew I would see the pained look in Glory's eyes as I walked away).

_I was in my room, laying down on my bed, almost asleep. Glory was downstairs with Mom, watching the weather. The broadcast for that night was floating in animated bursts up to my room._

_"Severe lightning storms. . . eighty mile-per-hour winds. . . take caution. . . away from windows and doorways. . . do not go outside. . ." I had my hands folded on top of my stomach, looking out the window from my bed. Dark purple and blue and black clouds smothered the horizon, and cold winds were gusting through the treetops, rattling all the leaves in its wake. Rain had started to drizzle. My dad came by my open door, toolbox in hand, smile on his face._

_"Hey, Smiley? Want to come fix the rain-gutter with me?" All I knew was that some section of the rain-gutter was falling off, and we had to fix it before the major storm. But, Dad being his(and my)usual self, he shirked it off until the storm was right down the street. I loved(with all my heart)to watch storms from the roof, but it seemed. . . too dangerous tonight. I mean, it was around ten 'o clock at night. I'm surprised that Glory could stay up this long(even though I knew that she's afraid of thunderstorms, and badly). But if he needed me. . ._

_"Yeah! I'll be right down." I got up and changed into jeans and put on a sweatshirt before running outside with him. Mom caught up to us right as we pounded the ladder into the mud(one of the top rungs liked to spin around in circles, too)._

_"Where do you think that you're going?!"_

_"Fixing the rain-gutter, Shelby! We're going to need it, soon!"_

_"Not in eighty mile-per-hour winds, Gerard Svelte! And especially not with my firstborn! That Goddamn storm is right around the corner! I swear, if something happens to you or my baby-"_

_"Nothing's going to happen, Shelby! We'll be inside soon. Now, if you're done delaying us, we have work to do." He instructed me to get on the roof with the toolbox, with more complaints from Mom about lightning, and followed me up the ladder._

_In what seemed like an instant, Dad was stripping the gutter of its broken segment, and screwing on the new one. I sat on the roof, still, handing him the screws. He handed them back furiously._

_"Damn it! Leah, could you get me the other screwdriver? The small one, please?" I fished through the huge red box, and pulled out the smaller screwdriver._

_"Here you go." I presented him with the screwdriver and two of the six screws that connected it to the paneling. Then, disaster._

_The wind suddenly picked up with a violent rush, and carried me a few feet to my left, near the front f the house. Then, it rapidly switched directions, shoving me across to the other side of the roof, opposite of where I had to be. He called my name and held out a hand, which had to catch the roof, or he was going to fall. The rough shingles on the roof scraped up my knees and elbows._

_The rain fell in heavy sheets, coating everything with a three-inch blanket of water. I heard Glory scream under the roof. Water swept into my eyes with help from the insane wind. I couldn't see him anymore. Where was he? There! He was finishing his work, and looking for me. Something about golf-ball sized smacked into the side of my head. Hail, too?! Lightning flashed across the sky in white-silver streaks. Thunder echoed above it. These conditions were abusive. Then, silence. Even the wind stopped. There was only rain, still heavy, but near silent. I didn't know how awful the next thing was going to be. I started for him. I wanted to run, but then, a new wave hit. Bigger hail, heavier winds, and something that would kill me father. I lightning bolt not twenty feet away flew down from the sky and struck the exact spot where the old metal ladder was. White hot and scorching my skin, until it blistered around my shins, it took my father's life painfully. His screams tore through the silence, and his arms spread far apart. Skin was searing off of him-it was horrible to watch. Then, it ended, and he fell. Glory's screams were heard louder than ever. The ladder made a dull thus when it hit the ground, molten. I, despite all my natural instincts yelling at me to get out of there, and quick(or cover my ears), I looked over the edge of the roof, shins tingling._

_There he was. His leg lodged firmly under the molten metal ladder(or what used to be), his skin almost completely gone, it only remained around one side of his face. His neck was snapped, hanging at a grotesque angle, as was his back. His shoulder blades touched a part of his back that I thought impossible. Unless you were dead. He was soldered to the ground by the remains of that Goddamn ladder, and he sat there, broken and bleeding and dead._

_The worst part of it(almost)came slower than expected for lightning. I mean, sure as what follows lightning? Yep. Thunder. A loud explosion(that made my ears ring and burst into extreme pain)ran around the air, catching like wildfire. Speaking of which, a small kindred flame had started in the grass below the house. I crawled and inch forward towards my Daddy. . . and fell off the roof._

_I could barely even feel the landing! I crawled, my wrists and legs and back and ears and about everything else screaming for me to stop and wait for the ambulance, to him. Now, I was soaked. Not in rain, though. Something hot and thick and coming from almost every possible place on him. It ran down my face(no doubt from my ears). Then, I saw his glassy, ice blue eye swivel to meet mine, and roll back until you could only see the whites. His skin paled. His lips turned purple(blue from death and cold, red from blood). His skin gained the texture of wax. I screamed, and it shattered the sound barrier(or what I could hear of it)._

Okay, enough! I have had too much to deal with! I couldn't possibly want to remember waking up in the hospital's ICU and having Gloria ask me where Daddy was. It was too _horrible_. The skin peeling off his body, the thunder that shattered both of my eardrums(I recovered all of my hearing). I couldn't _bear_ it.

I found myself(yet again)with my face buried into my arm. I heard a sympathetic yelp from outside, and decided that it was nothing to worry about.

My alarm went off about two minutes after I got into my bed, and it ticked me off. I mean, I _just_ got back into bed! But, the allure of seeing Raphael again was my motivation. He would probably be there, in all his awesome charm, with that look of a dream-like state in his eyes. And he still got all of the surprise questions that Mr. Daniels popped at him right. So, was he really daydreaming, and listening in? Or was he superhuman in the way of the sleep?

Surprise, surprise. Max was all smug with his shoulders back and all confident because I helped him and his dad, and even got Aunt Casey, too. His smile was starting to annoy me, and my mind instantly brought up the argument it had when he found me walking down to the beach. Now, what type of super villain would Max be? Oh, right. The tricky one.

"She looked so into it! I think she _liked_ helping me out." Max, his smugness back tenfold, looked sideways at me during lunch. Now what super villain was he again? Oh, right. The _dead_ one. I got up, walked over to him, and smacked my hand across the back of his head so hard that it hit the table and rebounded right back into my hand. I smacked him again. Well, his smugness was gone. . . and maybe his consciousness, too. I walked back to my seat and waited, a frown stretching across my face where a smile would usually perch itself. Luckily, since they witnessed the smack across the face I'd just given Max, no one asked.

Man, I was fidgety! Waiting, waiting. . . _more_ waiting! Geez! God! When'll the damn class _start_ already?! Wasn't it enough that _I'm_ here? C'mon! Start the lesson! Students noisily piled into the classroom(finally)and sat down in their usual seats(sad to say the tables have been moved back, so no more Raphael next to me). Mr. Daniels took his sweet time getting in the room, closing the door, and handing out a surprise test. But I knew all the answers. He gave us this one before(and luckily, no one told him about it). My knee was bouncing under the table. My left hand quivered when I passed the test in. My eyes snuck looks over my shoulder at Raphael. One time, he caught me looking(uh-oh). He smiled and did some sort of a wave, just a little flick of his wrist. I tried to imitate him, and it looked wrong. He smiled, though. I heard a grumble from behind me. Oh, good! That girl I don't care about in front of me was checking her makeup, and the mirror was pointed over my shoulder. I saw Dante, Raphael's brother, whispering something too quiet to hear at him. Raphael hissed back, a little angry(because I could hear the tension in his quiet voice). What were they arguing about? In _History_, of all places!

Carmella was walking alongside me until we got to my locker(then she stood beside me as I got my things).

"What were those two arguing about?"

"That's what _I_ want to know." I said, slamming the door(aha-ha, I made the girl next to me jump when the locker shut). Then, when Carmella was long gone(I told her to leave when she got her stuff), Jeanie appeared behind me.

"Damn it! God, Jeanie, you scared the crap out of me! Warning next time! Geez!" I started walking away, when her posse crowded me.

"You _know_ what I want, Loser. And I'd _better_ get it. Or you'll be sorry."

"What? Wait-I don't understand. _What_ exactly do you want?"

"That hot guy you sit next to in History. Raphael. His brother isn't so bad, either. . ." She said, with a nasty look in her eye that made me cringe.

"What? You're asking _me_?" Well, duh! He looks at me the most!

"_You_ sit next to him, Loser! _You_ are going to ask him out for me!"

"No way in hell, ho!" Okay, maybe I shouldn't have said that. . .

"Oh, really? Well, I can tell you that I'm just taking him so you won't have him. We've already had a few_ long nights_ together."

"Like hell you have! Then why does he keep on sneaking looks at me, and not you?"

"He feels sorry for you. He told me that much."

"And you _don't_ find your meals and clothes out of a trashcan?" Sarcasm. Nice. Works every time, too. How could this idea fail?

"I know that _you_ do." Okay, consider it failed. Clearly, she was smarter(_way_ smarter)than she looked.

"Well, _I _don't look as bad as you do. I suppose that means I can make it work. Too bad you can't." I bet she has an STD from all those guys she "dates". She gave me the I-just ate-a-lemon expression and walked away, her crowd following obediently. Man, what was that about? I mean, besides the obvious PMS.

Carmella(even though I told her to go home)was waiting for me by the end of Diana onto Watercress.

"Hi! Oh my God, what happened?! You weren't there for a while, and I thought something happened, and they locked the doors from the inside! Tell me!"

"Nothing." For you to worry about."Nothing happened."


End file.
